Amongst the Rose Petals That Fall
by Angel360-Devil0
Summary: Someone observes something very interesting in a bridal shop. Implied Will/Emma, light mention of mature themes, spoilers for "Mash-Up".


**A/N: **A one-shot for all of the Wemma fans. Read the A/N in "Rainy Day" for more information on the sudden publication; I'm not about to re-type it here. I've decided to go a different way this time by formatting the fic in letter format. I haven't attempted first-person POV in a while, so hopefully, this helps me get back into a writing groove. I've been cursed with the plague of sloth, and I hope to be cured soon. The setting and premise has been explained in the summary, and I trust you've read it. Otherwise, why else would you be reading this?

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. Its characters, premise, and setting are in the ownership of Ryan Murphy, co-creators, and FOX.**

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October 21, 2009_

Oh Jayne,

It's rather strange how I haven't written to you in months. I suppose I can only write when something interesting happens in this town. I hope you're doing well in Wall Street, breaking the glass ceiling. I also sincerely hope you're happy. But yes, something interesting did happen today.

My wedding is in a few weeks, you know. This past month has been a whirlwind of planning and pre-nuptials, along with the small decorations for Halloween in nine days. I know you've never cared much for a candy-centric holiday, but there are a lot of kids in Lima. I've also taken extra precautions this year concerning the pranksters from the local high schools and their pranks and egging and TPing. My fiancé will defend the house, and he'll chase those kids off. His costume is enough to scare the kids!

But I must tell you about today and the past month. Our pre-nups aren't much, for we don't make a lot of money or have any special conditions. My fiancé has only stipulated that I must remarry, no matter my age, should he ever pass away. If I don't remarry, I won't get anything he has stated in his will. Also, he wants to make sure I'm happy, even when I'm too old to care.

Today, I went shopping for a decent wedding dress. There's only one bridal shop in this town, which is quite deplorable. He—you know who now—couldn't come shopping with me; working as a dentist's assistant to Dr. Jones is quite hard work! After lunch, I went to that little shop—Lola's Bridal Shop, _All You Need for a Perfect Wedding_. I took off my large sunglasses and stored them in my black purse (the one you gave me for my birthday) as I wandered into the all white shop. It was quite spacious, but only had a few dresses hung in rows scattered throughout the store. The rest of it was scattered with silver and gold necklaces that shimmered with diamonds, displayed on fake necks, shoes of white, gold, and silver, and many other wedding necessities.

"Welcome to Lola's Bridal Shop, all you need for a perfect wedding." A brunette woman wearing an all black outfit gave a genuine smile. "Will you need any help preparing for your wedding?"

"Not right now, thank you though." I gave a small smile in response as I drifted to the closest row I could find, trying to stay far away from the two women talking by the counter.

The dresses, I soon found out, were ALL white, ALL made of some form of silk or satin, and ALL expensive. The prices were quite staggering, but he would not let me rent a dress. I thought it would be logical in the economic downturn, but he quite harshly refused my proposition. He wanted me to be happy for the "big day", hence the exorbitant price tag this colossal affair was running.

The first ones I browsed through were colossal by anyone's standards. They blossomed for the skirt portion and had many, many layers underneath; I checked myself! One was mesh, another was silk, and they alternated like that. But they felt very big, and I gave another sigh as I drifted to the next row. With my personal needs, the shopping was going to take a while.

It took me another hour and I still could not decide on a dress. I must have tried on every dress in the store and asked for Brittany's (the woman in black) opinion for every single dress. I apologized each time, but she just gave a smile and said that it wasn't anything to worry about. It made me feel a little bit more secure, but not by much, for there were two other women whispering by some of the necklaces and shoes. I had a feeling they were talking about my indecisiveness.

I had just started looking at some of the necklaces to keep my mind off the dresses when I heard the bell on the door make a tinkling noise. From the back of the store, I could make out a sweet couple. The woman had shoulder length red hair and was clad in a light baby blue pencil skirt and cardigan with a white button down chemise. The man had slicked back curly hair, and strangely enough, he was sort of matching the woman. And it was also quite strange that he was carrying a small blue boombox in one hand.

Brittany immediately walked to the young couple. "Welcome to Lola's Bridal Shop, all you need for a perfect wedding. Do you need any help in picking out a dress for your big day?"

Suddenly, the woman became quite flustered, and the man only chuckled a bit. "No, we're not getting married. I'm just helping her pick out a wedding dress that she can dance in." At this, the woman looked off to the side, and the man took in a breath. "Do you mind if we practice dancing in here?"

Brittany stood still for a few moments, and then abruptly turned to another woman, a brunette, standing at the counter minding her own business. A few whisperings later, the other woman, along with Brittany, approached the couple. "I understand you want to practice a wedding dance here?" I immediately presumed that this brunette was the manager of the shop.

"Yes. Will it be too much trouble?"

"Not at all. Business is a little…" For some reason, the manager looked to my direction, and I couldn't help but avert my eyes and examine a particularly interesting shimmery bead on a dress. "Slow at the moment. There's plenty of space for you to practice. Will you need any help in choosing a dress?"

The woman was slow in responding. I assumed she was still flustered by Brittany's question. "No, no. Thank you." And the red head darted to the back row, which just so happened to be where I was. Her eyes weren't on the wedding dresses, though her entire body seemed that way. Her eyes were following the man, who was setting up the boombox at the end of the counter.

"I'll be waiting over there, okay Emma?" He pointed to a white and gold armchair by the panorama mirrors, and with a smile, he was gone. Now Emma's full attention was directed to the dresses. For some strange reason though, she refused to touch them. She remained quite still, staring at the dresses all neatly lined up.

I had to snap her out of her reverie. It would do no good to keep the nice man waiting. "Emma—is that your name?" She meekly nodded. "You won't be able to try on any dresses unless you examine them, you know."

"I—I, um—they've been—never mind." She retreated further, and immediately I felt sorry.

"I'm Judith." I held out my hand, but she wouldn't shake it. I slowly took my hand back. "Are you nervous about your wedding?"

"No! No, not at…all."

She was nervous. Very, very nervous. "Truthfully, I'm quite nervous. My wedding is in a few weeks."

"Are you happy with your fiancé?" She asked me suddenly.

The words—and my slightly harsh tone—were out of my mouth faster than my brain could stop them. "Of course I am." She gave a small gasp, and I soon did. "No, Emma, I'm sorry." I gave a sigh. "I am happy with my fiancé, but such affairs make me nervous. I've been in this store for over an hour, and I can't decide on a dress!"

"I don't know how I'll be able to then." She glanced at the dresses by the dressing rooms in a frightened way with her wide doe eyes. "I need some help, I guess. I can't be here too long."

I knew just what to do. "Excuse me, Brittany?" She immediately strode to my side. "Emma would like some help in picking out a dress. She's a bit scared to ask though."

"Come with me." Emma shyly glanced in my direction. I hoped she didn't mind my request. It's not that I didn't want to be away from her, but she couldn't keep that man waiting. I glanced in his direction, and I saw that he was observing a row of lacy garters from his seat.

Emma's reaction made me think back to my own marriage in a few weeks. I was, and still am, very scared about the proposition of marriage. It certainly made me anxious thinking about it, even during wonderful sex with my fiancé. But—no, I shouldn't trouble you with such things. I'll continue with my narrative. I would use white out, but not on such a beautiful card. You wouldn't like it very much.

I heaved a sigh as I saw Brittany holding a long, white gown, two sparkly bands, a pair of long white gloves, small earrings, and a pair of white heels. She, with Emma trotting close behind, was walking slowly to the dressing section of the store. If only I could make up my mind that quickly! I glanced to the man once again. Now, he was stretching the elastic of a lacy garter. Maybe I should consider getting one…but I busied myself by picking up a black high-heeled shoe.

Another half-hour passed. Preparations for Emma's dress were going by quite slowly. I didn't quite realize that I was waiting to see how she looked, neglecting my shopping duties utterly, when the man began to become a little dissatisfied, as voiced by his comment.

"Are you ready yet? We've only got an hour for lunch Emma." He stretched the elastic of the garter some more.

"It's not like trying on a pair of jeans Will." So that was the man's name. Will. Nice name, I guess. What do you think?

"Well, it doesn't have to be perfect; we just have to see if you can dance in it." That's when I saw her. The neckline was a bit high for my tastes, but her hair was neatly tied up in a bun with the two sparkly headbands (as it turns out, it was only one headband that split in the middle). I could see that the back was a deep V-cut with a flower sewn on the back. Again, not my tastes, but it looked wonderful on her. I also couldn't help but smirk when the man snapped the garter down to the floor with a muted crack, the look on his face one of utter astonishment.

"It fits okay?"

Will stood up slowly, possibly taking in her beauty. "Yeah. Fits great." He gave a nervous chuckle.

"Terrific." I heard her whisper. She immediately walked to the panoramic mirrors, with Will a little further behind.

What I observed next in the mirror was fascinating, and a little saddening. She seemed almost unable to reign in her happiness, but soon managed a quiet smile, and he gave a half-smile as he stood behind and to the side of her. "Yeah. Terrific." He reciprocated. They looked like the perfect couple. All he needed was a tuxedo, and they could easily be walking down the aisle. If I was dressed in a wedding dress, could I see my fiancé with Will's expression? Could I imagine us looking like them? It moved me to near tears Jayne. How I wish you were there to see it! Not my tears, but the couple. They were stunning.

"Uh, so, should we see if you can dance in it?" He snapped out of his own reverie. Of course she could dance it in. The dress was free-moving, so it would be no problem, I ascertained. But I suppose the thrill of dancing with a woman like Emma was too good to excuse. She nodded excitedly though, not in the way when I had addressed her. "Okay. This is the instrumental version of your wedding song. You can sing along if you want to, it'll help your footwork."

A tune began to play, and I couldn't recognize it at all, for it certainly seemed familiar. She pulled up her long gloves a bit, and Will approached her. Like a true gentleman, he led her off the platform, and after he bowed and she curtsied, they got ready to dance. He dipped her down gracefully, and as soon as she was back up, she began to sing.

"I could have danced all night…" And so it continued much like this. Her soprano rang out in the store, the women I could see were smiling as they watched the couple practice. They seemed like professionals, which made me wonder why they would dance here. It also saddened me; it seemed as though they were showing off, almost.

They came to the dressing section, and as she kept twirling and he kept being a wonderful leader, they approached me. Will was only a few feet away from where I was standing, and I immediately took my cue to back away a step. Before he picked her up and twirled her, she gave an even larger smile. I didn't realize until they were twirling away that this smile was her way of saying thank you. I must have provided her with some boost of confidence, that she was as indecisive as I was.

And soon enough, they had passed the two other women, and were back by the chairs Will was sitting in not a minute ago. He had her hovering above the ground, and for a moment, I thought he would drop her. "Yeah…you can dance in it." Indeed she could! I was tempted to clap, but none of the women were. Besides, silence suited the moment more. I could just sense a romantic kiss, and then—

Suddenly, they were both back up abruptly. "So, I've got to go and um…Got the big showdown today at 3:30 and um, I want to make sure I'm there to support the kids no matter what happens." His bag was already slung on his shoulder. What was he talking about?

"Wait, what showdown?" Emma voiced my thoughts. "I thought…" She panted. "I thought you and Sue had that last week." Sue. They could not have been talking about Sue of Sue's Corner…could they? She did seem a bit harsh…

"Between me and your fiancé." Kids, showdown, fiancé, Sue…what was I missing here? What was going on? Was there tension within this soon-to-be marriage? "Ken's told all the football players in Glee that they have to choose between the club and the team. And unless all the guys choose Glee, it looks like we won't have enough members for Sectionals."

"Then Glee is over."

"I know. Well, wish me luck." He gave a chuckle before going to get his boombox. Soon enough though, he departed from the store, leaving poor Emma alone, standing in her beautiful wedding dress, as though she had been left at the wedding altar.

Glee, team, club, football, Sectionals, Ken, Will…Emma. This was at the high school. You know I did well in school; I'm not stupid or naïve. This was at William McKinley High, their Glee Club and football team. My memories flooded back to sitting in the bleachers that cold night, adrenaline coursing through my veins, when the team won their first game, then to the Invitational, which I had decided to go to. It was Coach Ken Tanaka they were talking about, Coach Sue Sylvester of Sue's Corner, and Will and Emma worked at that high school. I have no fond memories of that godforsaken place; I hated nearly every second of it.

I observed Emma. She looked dejected, most likely about to cry. I couldn't let that happen. She'd ruin her makeup and her reputation. I set the shoe down and stared at her, waiting for what she'd do next. "Brittany?" She called out softly. Brittany heard her, and was at her side faster than I could blink. "Could you help me out of this?"

"Will you be buying it?" I heard her ask as they left to the changing rooms.

Emma looked down, and I could tell what she had said: no. I couldn't quite understand at first, but then it hit me just as much as it should have dawned on you. She likes Will, not Ken. I had been stupid not to see it before. The dance should have been a hint, but I couldn't grasp it. I just wish I knew why. Would you happen to know why?

In about ten minutes, Emma was dressed in her normal clothes, holding a list in her hand. It seemed as though she never wanted to let go of that list, for she was clutching it tightly as though it would be blown in the breeze.

"We hope that you come here again for your wedding needs." Brittany added. Emma nodded.

"Goodbye Judith." Emma gave a small wave before the tinkling of the bell announced her departure. I waved back shyly, almost too late. I soon heard the two women talking.

"She's so lucky." One commented.

"I know! I wish my husband loved me that much!" The other one responded.

"Such a shame she's not getting married to him though."

The conversation then took a turn to marital problems, something I did not need to hear. After all of this, I took one last look at the dresses. My eyes were on a cream-colored one I hadn't noticed before. "Excuse me, Brittany?"

And with that, I finally had a dress and decent accessories to match. I am very much happy about being married to my fiancé, completely. I am not like Emma at all.

I hope to hear from you soon Jayne. Keep on breaking that glass ceiling!

_With dear love from your sister,_

_Judith_

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Judith stored the fountain pen back in its pot, blew the fresh ink dry, and after a few moments, closed the journal. There was no Jayne, but she was no figment of the imagination either.

Jayne, Judith's younger sister, had died in a car crash with a drunk driver in New York City. The brilliant Wall Street business woman was no more about two years ago. It made Judith sad most of the time, but by writing in her journal in the form of letters to her sister, in a way, it abated the sadness for a while.

Judith looked down and rubbed her small belly in small circles with her small thumb. She didn't even like her fiancé all that much either. She had been planning to break it off with him, for he was possessive, controlling, and a bit abusive when drunk. On the day she was going to though (in the same restaurant, at the same table where they went on their first date, and later where he proposed), she got very, very sick. Before she knew it, Doctor Wu had delivered the news that she was pregnant.

All of the things she could have done, now gone. The life she could have lived for Jayne, all of the plans made, dissipated into thin air. She was going to travel the world. But now she was bound to marriage, and she had no job. He was the only way she could possibly live with the baby, for abortion was out of the question. Jayne would not like that; she was very anti-abortion, despite her Wall Street dreams. She could not—would not—be a Lima Loser. Not possible, not ever.

Judith began to choke with little sobs. Tears welled up in her eyes. But they never fell, for she heard shiny leather shoes clicking on the hardwood floor, and she quickly stored her journal away. If he knew what she was writing…why, she'd kill herself.

"Judith? I'm home." She could hear his smile, although she could not see him. Instead, she put on a smile as she turned in her seat. "Are you okay?" His voice had an undertone of anger, sternness…possessiveness.

"I'm fine. I'm absolutely fine."

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**A/N: **Did you like it? Comments and critique from all--even those who do not have an account--is very much appreciated.

~Lane


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